


Welcome Home

by Greenisher



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 06:45:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5324435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenisher/pseuds/Greenisher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Okay Max, the next entry in her journal started. So you want to fuck your best friend." | Post bae over bay ending, Max finds herself in need of Chloe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> Written while listening to Welcome Home by Radical Face

Once, a long time ago, what felt like a lifetime ago, Max had reached out in a bathroom and turned back time. She had had her powers for a week, but how long was a week when you kept going back, replaying minutes, days? How many lives had she lived in five short pieces of time?

Arcadia Bay was gone now, but Chloe was still here and that was what was most important to her. Chloe Price, who had reached out and held her hand as they drove through the wreckage of the town, mistaking Max's grim self-reflection for regret. Chloe Price who had dared her to kiss her one morning while they were still warm and sleepy from sharing a bed. Chloe Price, who, five years ago had turned to her while they painted in her backyard and said, "Hey, so, I really... _like-like_ you." 

Chloe and Max. Max and Chloe. Together again, forever this time. Living together in Seattle in a small apartment funded with part-time jobs and insurance money from Chloe's storm decimated house. Max would wake up in the night and reach out, and there she was, warm and alive. Chloe. Her Chloe. That was important now. She didn't need her powers to go back in time; her dreams did that for her, taking her back to the hundreds of deaths she'd seen her best friend die. They had slept apart in the first few weeks, but Max slept easier with her head resting on Chloe's chest, listening to her heart pump a steady rhythm. 

The idea of having sex with her was something Max didn't realize she'd been considering until late into the morning, a few weeks after they'd begun sharing a bed. She didn't like to unpick her emotions much these days, too worried about the dark hole in her mind they tended to lead her down. Maybe that was why it had taken so long. But here she was, lying in bed thinking about Chloe who'd left for work (their usual morning routine, Max bringing her coffee and then getting back into bed, Chloe leaving the bed to get dressed and have a morning smoke, then kissing Max, who would be pretending to sleep, on the cheek before she left) her eyes drifting over the shape of her guitar in the corner of the room. She'd been teaching Chloe how to play more than the three chords Chloe knew already, and somehow the memory of Chloe's kiss and the way her stomach flipped and the way Chloe's long, clever fingers moved up and down the guitar strings and the way the smell of her cigarettes infused the bed sheets and--

And what? She was breathless. She slid a hand under the elastic waist of her pajama bottoms and pressed it to the front of her underwear. She was wet, soaked through.She thought about Chloe, thought about Chloe's hands, about Chloe's warm smile and her beautiful eyes and slid her fingers inside of herself. That felt good, more than good. It had been months since she'd touched herself, months since she'd felt the need for anything more than the warmth of a hug or a swift kiss to the cheek. But now as she imagined the weight of Chloe's kiss on her neck, on her collarbone, on her shoulders, on her lips, the need inside of herself grew desperate, some insatiable hunger. 

She touched her own breasts, squeezed a nipple between her fingers Her hips lifted off the mattress and she found herself panting, picturing Chloe between her legs. She found her clit and rubbed it and felt her vision go white as she shuddered and suddenly Chloe was all she could picture. As she came, Chloe's face was the only thing she could see, swimming in front of her vision and she cried out sharply. It was as though a dam was broken, sensation rushing through her. "Chloe," she said, feeling weak. She wrapped her arms around Chloe's pillow and breathed in her scent. "Chloe," she said again, "Chloe, Chloe, Chloe..."

 _Okay Max,_ the next entry in her journal started. _So you want to fuck your best friend..._

If Chloe noticed how awkwardly Max had begun fumbling towards physical closeness with her, she didn't say. They would watch a movie and Max would slide along the couch and rest her head on Chloe's shoulder. In bed at night, Max tucked herself into Chloe's arms and under her chin, butt pressing against Chloe's hips. When Chloe kissed her goodbye in the mornings, Max kissed back, gently, tenderly, on the opposite cheek.

Chloe was not the kind of person to take the lead. She could tease like no one else. She could hint and insinuate and flirt and suggest until Max was burning all over inside, wanting her, but she didn't cross whatever invisible line she'd erected in her head. Max knew Chloe would sleep with her if she asked, from the way she stroked Max's back absent-minded when they sat next to each other, from the way she got flustered and embarrassed and fiddled with her beanie when Max paid her a compliment. But the asking was the hard part - geez, she'd never slept with anyone before, never even kissed anyone but Chloe! There was no way she'd be any good at it. What was she even supposed to do? What did girls do when they...how did two girls...with a boy and a girl it seemed self-explanatory - she had a scientific idea of how that occurred. When she tried to picture fucking Chloe a million different ideas and sensations swept through her mind, made her feel weak and excited and needful in a different way. 

Everything got all wrapped up in her head and she needed an impartial, objective judge to help her figure stuff out. Her prospects didn't look good when she scrolled through her phone. Victoria, who would probably laugh at her and put the phone down. Kate, who almost definitely did not want to discuss her friend's sex lives.She hesitated over Dana's name - Dana was level headed, and smart. But then she thought about looking her in the eye at one of the post-storm meet ups the kids of Blackwell sometimes did, and felt her face go red in advance. Maybe not a person. Instead, she flipped open her laptop. Google was kind of like a priest or a doctor - it wouldn't tell anyone if you had to search for something super embarrassing. 

Within five minutes, stretched out on their bed with her laptop, she'd forgotten all of her questions, having found enough porn to last her a lifetime. It wasn't really porn, not the kind she'd expect a guy like Warren to keep hard drives full of. Alternative models, stretched out in artistic poses, completely naked, smiling at the camera. She hadn't found any with short blue hair yet, but her eyes lingered on one with purple pubic hair and nipple piercings shaped like bars. The model was stretched out on a floor that was covered with a velvet, drape-y material. She was fingering herself with a smile, tattoos stretching over abdomen. 

It was easy to forget how much she'd struggled in the months following what had happened in the dark room. How being separated from Chloe sent her into anxiety attacks, how walking at night made her crunch her hands into tight fists and hunch her shoulders to protect her neck, how being around men - even family members - made her want to leave wherever she was and go home to the small nest she shared with Chloe. It had been impossible to look at digital photography equipment for the first month or so. Usually, she couldn't make eye contact with studio-shot photos without feeling a churning sensation in the base of her stomach. But this was different. This was the opposite of the dark room photos. This was a warm set-up, not the cold framing of Mark Jefferson. The smile on the model's face was open, genuinely happy. There had been something tight and scrunched up inside her chest for the last year; when she looked at these photos, it almost seemed to unclench slightly, to relax.

There was a video on the site too. The preview was of two of the models kissing each other. When she clicked play, they laughed and kissed and one of them slipped her fingers between the other's legs and kissed her neck. Max found herself smiling with them, even as she found herself getting turned on. She'd never really watched porn before - her only exposure had been through curiosity as a younger teen and had involved three older men roughly and unpleasantly thrusting into a much younger actress who seemed like she wasn't enjoying herself. This was much better. It made her feel warm inside. It made her want Chloe between her legs, kissing her with the love these two models seemed to have for each other.

Out in the hallway, she heard Chloe's key turn in their lock and quickly minimized the screen. That didn't turn the sound off; as Chloe stepped into their apartment, dropping her keys into the bowl by the door, a low moan emanated from Max's computer. Shoot. Max quickly re-opened the window and paused the video. "Max," Chloe called. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Max called back, sitting up, closing the tab with the video on it. Chloe walked into their bedroom and threw her arms around her. "Hey, you."

"Hey you," Chloe tapped her screen. "Nice boobs."

Oh, of course. Max felt herself go red. She'd closed the tab with the video on it, but there were at least ten more tabs, all with pictures from the site. "Um," she said. 

"What," Chloe punched her arm playfully. "Did I walk in on something here, Caulfield?" 

Oh geez. Could this go wrong? She couldn't think how, but anxiety was roiling away inside her brain. "Research," Max said, and licked her lips, and smiled at the keyboard. Chloe had wrapped an arm around her. She could see the muscles under her pale skin. She rubbed her thumb over a small scar Chloe had had since she'd fallen off a tree when they were six. She suddenly wanted to kiss it. When she finally met Chloe's eyes, there was a yearning in them. Chloe knew her well enough that she could probably name every freckle on Max's body, map out every inch of her. And she could tell Chloe wanted her to kiss her, so she would have an excuse to press her lips to every one of those freckles. 

"Research for what?" Chloe was so close now. She should kiss her. She should. She had started breathing faster, and she knew Chloe would be able to hear her heart beat at a thousand miles an hour. "You gonna start a new photo series, Max? Hipster girl porno? What, tasteful nudes?" Chloe's grip around her middle was firm and warm. "Need a model?"

"Yeah," Max's mouth said before her brain had fully caught up. "Are you gonna do it?"

"Wait," Chloe's eyebrows rose. "For real? You wanna take shots like that?" There was a smile playing across her lips.

Max thought about this. Did she? She closed her laptop and took a long lingering look at Chloe, at Chloe's lanky body, at the beautiful tattoo sleeve covering her arm. God yes, she wanted to shoot her. Chloe was her number one subject; she had a million photos of her. "Yeah," she said, and then she smiled an open mouth smile, feeling warm and good inside. "I do."

She put the computer down and sat up, Chloe letting her go reluctantly. Her camera was always ready to go, always within arm's reach. "Will you be my model?" She asked.

"Yeah, dude! Oh man, these are gonna look so cool." Chloe stood up, then on second thought jumped onto their bed and turned to face her. "You want me here?"

"I want you," Max said. Oh, right. Direction. "On the bed is fine." Max wasn't a director; she preferred fate and a good eye to set up her photos. But as Chloe bounced on the bed with a mischievous grin, ready to take instructions, she felt something inside of herself throb. She took a photo of her then, fully clothed and looking ready, in her usual tank top and jeans. "Take your shirt off," Max said.

"You're the boss," Chloe told her and Max felt herself get wet. Chloe was slow in taking off her tank top, exposing a little bit of stomach first, teasing Max with a glimpse of her belly button, before finally pulling her tank top over her head and dropping it on the floor. "Bra off too?"

"Whatever makes you feel comfortable," Max started to say but Chloe had already taken it off, dropping it on the floor. Chloe's breasts were beautiful; small, round, sweet little rosebuds of nipples. If she was the poetry type, Max would've written a sonnet to them. As it was, she firmly believed a picture was worth a thousand words; she took five thousand words worth of photos. "God," she said, her voice sincere and filled with love. "Chloe, you're beautiful."

Chloe's face lit up. She seemed to grow flustered, running hand through her blue hair. It was going blonde at the roots again, but Max loved that. It added a uniqueness to it that made her breath catch whenever she thought about it. "Wow, Max. You really know how to get a girl's pants off," she told her and grinned, reaching for the buttons on her jeans. 

Max watched her peel her skinny jeans off, overcome by the desire to press her face between her legs and taste her. There was a wet spot in her underwear; when Chloe saw her looking, she grew sheepish and laughed. "Guess I've just been thinking about you all day." Max was too stunned to respond to that; took a picture instead. It was hard to consider herself an object of desire for someone else, especially someone as beautiful as Chloe. It seemed to have been an odd thing for Chloe to confess to as well; she looked as though she might regret allowing herself to become that vulnerable, even for a split second. 

"Take them off," Max said, quiet but firm. Chloe had taken a chance on her; she would let her regret this. Chloe looked relieved. She wriggled out of them, sat on the bed with her legs spread, looking bashful and pleased all at once. Max went down on one knee with her camera. It was a good shot. And Chloe looked so happy in it, so beautiful and so welcoming. Max stood up again, held her camera and smiled a little smile. She knew what she wanted to see next. Was it a bridge too far? "What do you normally do?" She asked, cocking her head to one side. "When you think of me like that?"

Chloe seemed to hesitate but Max smiled at her and she smiled back. Max felt warmth and trust explode in her heart and wanted to reach out and gently stroke her, but didn't. Not yet, her intuition was telling her. Not quite yet. "Jerk off, usually," Chloe said and grinned.

"Show me," Max said. 

Chloe's mouth opened and closed. Then she lay down on their bed, her legs spread, and gently ran the fingers of her dominant left hand over her clit. With her right hand, she cupped her breast, gently running her fingers over the sensitive nipples. Max wanted to help, but something froze her to the spot. This felt good. This felt really good - watching felt good. "You gonna help out, hippie?"

"Not yet," Max said and readied her camera. 

"Max," Chloe said, with a soft moan. God, she was so wet that Max could see it, could see how easy it was for Chloe to trace circles around her own clit. No penetration, Max noted for future reference. Not even one finger. "Max," Chloe said again and Max pressed her thighs together. "Holy shit Max, I, I need you." Chloe bit her bottom lip and Max took the shot. 

She put her camera down and felt suddenly unsure of herself. "You're doing really well," she told Chloe, and the love in her voice was genuine. "You're getting really close."

"I wanna get there with you," Chloe said, the edge of her voice turning into a low whine. "Max," she said and her voice was breathless. Max lay a hand on her stomach, and the touch alone was enough to send a shudder of need rippling through Chloe. Max lifted her hand, cupped Chloe's cheek. 

"I'm here," Max said. "I'm with you."

"You gonna watch?" There was a small proud grin on Chloe's face. Max nodded and, instinctively, leaned down to kiss Chloe's exposed throat. Chloe made a guttural noise and Max looked back down just in time to see Chloe's hips bounce off the bed as she came with a gasp and a sob. 

"Was I a good model?" Chloe asked, once she'd gotten her breath back.

"You were incredible, Chloe," Max said, and then laughed. It had felt good to watch. Now there was something coiling around inside of her, something that made her want to ride Chloe's beautiful face until she came too. Chloe lifted up her wet fingers and traced them over Max's lips and Max opened her mouth and accepted them. She tasted good. Chloe's free hand was rubbing Max's thigh through her jeans. 

"Are you ready?" Chloe asked. "I wanna do stuff to you."

Max fumbled with her hoodie. Chloe helped her free herself when she got stuck and as Max pulled off her shirt and felt her fingers struggle nervously with her bra clasp, Chloe undid the buttons of her jeans and pulled them down over her legs. She cupped Max's butt and kissed her vulva. "Love that skinny hipster ass, Max," she said and laughed at Max's gasp. "Come on, get naked already!"

Chloe talked a big game, but when Max stepped out of her clothes and climbed onto the bed next to her, she seemed to grow lost, a dopey smile on her face. She touched Max's freckles like she was tracing constellations and kissed the wings of Max's clavicle while Max brushed her hair. This felt good, it really did, but Max had spent a day looking at naked women and then what had felt like an eternity watching the girl of her dreams orgasm to the thought of her. She needed this orgasm, her legs shifting and twisting in the bed to press her thighs together. She needed to be Fucked, capital F. Chloe could daintily run her fingertips over her clit or plow her with a strap-on or let Max hump her leg - it didn't matter, so long as it happened soon. "I wanna kiss every inch of you," Chloe told her. "Shit, listen to me, getting romantic and stuff."

"Chloe," Max leaned up on her elbows, took her face in her hands. "Please--" and then she stopped. 

"Please?" Chloe asked, stroking her breast. Max's nipple stood up to attention as Chloe's thumb brushed over it and Max felt her hips roll, needing something to push against.

"Go down on me," Max whispered. Chloe didn't need to be told twice. As if recognizing the urgency of the situation, she didn't say a word, only grinning and ducking down. She started by kissing Max's belly button. "Chloe," Max said. "Please!"

"Come on Mad Max, no time for foreplay?"

"Put your fingers inside me," Max said, with a gasp. "Please," she added, although Chloe had already slipped her first digit knuckle deep inside her. One wasn't enough, and she bucked, reached down and unfurled Chloe's second finger.

"God Max," Chloe said, sliding her second finger in, and then her third when Max uncurled that one too. "This is hot, this power-bottom thing. This is so hot. I like it when you tell me what to do," she added in a whisper.

Max knew that. Chloe liked it when Max took over, made the decision as to what they were going to watch, what they were going to eat. "Go down on me," Max repeated, her voice breathless and thick. Chloe pressed her nose to Max's clit and then spread her tongue wide and licked her way up, from the channel she was currently holding open to the top of the clit. 

"You taste so good," Chloe said into her, and Max let out a soft little noise, bucking her hips, rubbing them into Chloe's face. She had the mental image again of riding Chloe's face - _next time_. Chloe's spare hand reached up and squeezed one of Max's breasts. "Fuck," Chloe said. "You taste even better than I imagined." 

Max groaned, pressing her shoulders into the bed, her hands covering Chloe's hand on her breast as it squeezed rhythmically. "I'm so close," she whispered, as Chloe's tongue ran over her clit and probed the entrance to her. As Chloe began to lick in long lines up her, as she bucked her hips and hooked her knees over Chloe's shoulders and felt a wave building inside of her. "Chloe," she said. "Chloe, Chloe, Chloe..."

She could've died and it would've been okay. Everything could've ended, and she would've been content. Chloe's tongue set off fireworks inside of her and she found herself remembering the way she'd kissed her that first time in Arcadia Bay, how every cell in her body had been lit up at once. She managed to gasp Chloe's name one more time before going limp, feeling liquid. She sank back into their bed and Chloe came up and kissed her tenderly, her mouth warm and she tasted herself on Chloe's tongue. She smiled into the kiss and then laughed and touched Chloe's shoulder. Chloe broke away to draw lines between her freckles.

"I love you," Max told her and felt relief wash over her. She did, she absolutely did. She had loved her since they had met, she had loved her for a thousand years, a thousand timelines, an infinite number of realities and possibilities and dimensions. Chloe cupped her cheek and kissed her back.

"I love you too," she said and held Max so fiercely that Max knew nothing would ever rip them apart again.


End file.
